Dusty Attic Awakening: My First Time with Sylvia
Sweat trickled down my back as we climbed the creaky ladder to that dusty attic in the old shack, lost in nowhere. Mid-summer heat wrapped around us like a blanket, thick and sticky. Sylvia, a few months older, grabbed my hand, her eyes sparkling with that mix of mischief and certainty. My heart hammered—thud-thud-thud—like it…